A translation of yesterday's text, as requested.

The cutting is beginning to have the courage to be its own self, the Monstera deliciosa has grown a new leaf. Today the wind blows hard. My room was clean and pleasing in the morning.

The new Tuli&Savu contains poems and an essay by Nikita Safonov. They vie for that which I have repeatedly come into contact with in recent days: acces to the other sides of objects' names, into unfiltered reality. I suppose it is the roots of phenomenology penetrating ever deeper into the ground of being and thought. Today it is sometimes called metarealism.

Markku Paasonen's novel Little Fish Eat Big Fish contains this thought too. The main character, a failing writer, realizes that writing only serves to conceal the world behind words, not to reveal it. That is why he leaves his cabin, gives up on his secluded life. The text is prose because it explains the thought in a recognizable fashion and in doing so makes it slightly less dangerous.

Safonov doesn't try to explain philosophy through language, but rather to perform it. Poems are rituals, they contain and conceal an emancipatory possibility, a breaking of the limitations of perception. And like all rituals, in practice they are very difficult to understand. In reading them the analytical mind feels helpless, but the mind that is able to perceive and repeat what it perceives can continue working (as long as the confused analyzer doesn't forcibly stop it). Whether this perceiving and repeating leads to some new understanding isn't in the reader's power. The collective forces that control thought are much stronger than those of the individual who thinks.

This is what I have been learning through poetry, consciously or unconsciously: the thoughts that first spring to my mind upon my seeing or doing something that other people also see and do, are the same thoughts that spring to other people's minds. First thoughts are always collective, almost instinctive. So are second thoughts in those few, whose diets contain enough surplus calories for them to ever get that far. Third thoughts are very rare.

A fourth thought is usually a poem. A poem is a fourth thought.

Everything I have explained above consists of second thoughts. It may well be that this second-thinking is the most common form of thinking in contemporary society, because it is the politicians method of justifying and explaining his actions. It is not complicated, but it is far enough removed from primitive reactiog for it to not seem completely barbaric. It is not: ”We'll do this”, but rather ”We'll do this, because...”. But the ”because” of a second thought must always be a first thought.

This is how I understand most of modern politics. It is not primitive reaction. It is primitive reaction that is interrupted for the time it takes to put on a shirt and necktie and then continued.

Nowadays everything I do ends up revolving around politics. I woke up today and was very satisfied with my room's orderliness. While cleaning in the evening I had anticipated being pleased in the morning. How wise.

Empedocle thought fourth thoughts. He was wrong about everything. He invented the theory of the Four Elements. He jumbed into the mouth of Mount Etna in order to see, whether metempsychosis was real.

I wonder what it feels like to be so goddamn stupid.

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